


All the Many Ways to Pay Off A Tab - And Keep your Brother Out of Trouble

by cypherd



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Use and Abuse, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Drugging (kind of), Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Vagina (Undertale), Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, M/M, breast milk, crude language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-14 01:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16030466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cypherd/pseuds/cypherd
Summary: The world of Underfell is a dangerous place but some clever maneuvering has given Grillby a rather impressive amount of shall we say 'invincibility'. Papyrus on the other hand, now Captain of the Guard isn't going to stand for anyone messing with his brother and fully intends to use the bartender's own tricks against him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Askellie (NadaNine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadaNine/gifts).



> I definitely wanted to get back to writing this thing. Please heed the warnings - if this stuff is not for you, I have plenty of other things that may be more to your tastes.

Officially, the motto of the Underground was: ‘Kill or Be Killed’.

If you were a simpleton perhaps.

‘Pick your battles carefully’ was a better one.

Undyne had known that when she chose to train Papyrus.

As a result, when Papyrus got the better of her, he kept around the person who had gotten him to that point. The clever kept around a loyal fighter; if they just killed everyone for every inconsequential slight there’d eventually be no guard to begin with.

Of course, there was also the fact that shortly after Undyne’s defeat and Papyrus’ promotion, it had been discovered that anyone making an enemy of their new Captain found themselves mysteriously dusted over dinner or perhaps while watching television at the end of the day, sometimes even in full view of their post with not even Doctor Alphys able to discern where and how the strange 1-hp-at-a-time draining poison had gotten into its victim's system. 

So yes, for the savvy inhabitant of the underground, ‘pick your battles carefully’ was a better twist on the phrase. And then, there was someone like Grillby...and Grillby knew even better than that.

You could pick your battles. You could become part of the Royal Guard. You could cozy up to the Royals if you wanted to or...

You could make yourself totally and completely invaluable.

He supplied, he hunted for the hunters, he healed. In short; he made food. Not just whatever was crawling on the bed of Snowdin River or slopping condiments on the stunted plant life that struggled to grow beneath their mountain. Not what was still mostly edible from what the humans threw away. Real food. It wasn’t arrogance to call it ‘cuisine’. It- existed even here if you knew where to find it, and if one didn’t think too hard about where it MIGHT have come from.

And then he did them one better and started making booze.

Even Grillby knew he wasn’t untouchable behind his wall of food, liquor and an establishment that sold both for an extremely comfortable price. For him.

Actually, he was secretly and privately completely invincible.

Their good Captain’s big brother called him ‘Boss’ in spite of their family connection and wore his collar like a dog, this much was true.

It was also true that Sans liked to drink...

...and when Sans drank, he talked...while Papyrus was well known for his incredibly high resistance to temptation, Sans was much the opposite with poor impulse control as well as an addictive personality unwittingly fueling Grillby’s own private little information network.

Which, for anyone keeping score at home was now why Grillby had Papyrus' precious little (little was stretching it actually) assassin under his greasy, booze soaked thumb, with that collar permanently lashed to a tab of epic proportions.

Hell if he was letting his choke hold on THAT go anytime soon.

Of course such a well-thought out life plan didn’t come without its own sense of upkeep, some of which was deeply unpleasant. One of the prime offenders of his own sensibilities was sitting across from him presently, legs crossed demurely and two of her multiple arms pretending to sip tea through pursed lips and toying prettily with the bodice of her tastefully revealing blouse, while the remaining two smoothed her hair and propped herself against the bar top.

It was hypnotic in a way and he almost caught himself staring.

Perhaps Muffett had noticed as well. “Darling, I don’t think we have time for the usual banter."

Grillby hummed agreement, pulling out a grimy but intact yellow legal pad from beneath the bar.

Muffett pulled her tea closer, the polite offer of a drink as much a weapon to her as the flammable paper was a defensive aid as well as a necessary tool for tracking the meeting. Magically protected the bar might well be, but neither tea nor paper were magical and therefore did not fall within the jurisdiction of magic and intent. Not that either would cause lasting damage to either of them but it would hurt like hell...or make them sick...and ultimately, be immensely satisfying.

"Shall we  get the pleasantries out of the way, Grease Fire?"

"Cannibal." he responded in kind, and her forced laugh tinkled away piano-like at his mocking but gentlemanly bow, even as he imagined hurling her head first into a lava pit. Perhaps the core. Sometimes it was a blessing to have a face that was rather unreadable to other monsters.

The nice part was that he knew that unlike her sad attempts at insulting him (it would have offended him once perhaps but his clientele had long immunized him to all but the most completely disgusting language) his rejoinder certainly rankled with her, particularly as it touched on some unmistakable truths. Things were not, as their regular meetings suggested, stable in the underground and it did behoove both of them to negotiate from time to time. Grillby’s one lead on his most prolific competitor was simply in regards to the species of monster that she was.

When their species had been sealed under the mountain, humans had no idea that they hadn’t exactly gotten _all_ the monsters. Many spiders; the sort that their limited intelligence said humans called ‘arachnid’ and not ‘monster’ had escaped the fate and the ancestors of many yet roamed the upper world freely. Granted, they were a lesser species; closer in intelligence to the pets and work-animals that humans kept, but for many underground residents, the consideration of consuming them like livestock was a bit of a slippery slope. Snails fell into a similar category for some. Maybe their mistress was a touch jealous and chose to take it out on her ‘pets’. Whatever the reason, it was a good selling point for the fire elemental

Grillby knew it, and better still so did Muffett.

Unfortunately, both had around the same amount of self control and common sense. It would have been one thing if she cut corners or gorged on her own product to the point of being unable to sell enough of it (lesser monsters than either of them had tried to compete), but she was no more predisposed to such destructive behaviours than he himself was. A shame, but Grillby was resigned to the idea that he needed to think a little bit more outside the box if he was in any way interested in one-upping her to the point of a monopoly and that she was undoubtedly doing the same.

For the present however, certain things had to be shared.

“I know you don’t like to head out to Waterfall.” Muffett purred away.

Yes yes, the monster made of fire hated the water, how scandalous. If Grillby had eyes to roll he would presently be doing so. Muffett would be replacing Dr. Alphys as the Royal Scientist next. He chose to keep this barb to himself in the interest of progressing the meeting.

“Temmie’s milk is too sweet for my needs.” he tried to keep the ire out of his voice. There’s more than enough I can do with their hard boiled eggs, which I know are no good for cakes and pies.” he continued, keeping up his own end of the ‘painfully obvious’ portion of the conversation as if he wasn’t suffering for milk. Truly, the mammalian rabbits were a good source for the more savory palettes of his customers, but as times got tougher, they weren’t screwing like...well, the obvious and production was low.

It would last long enough, and Snow Drake eggs were somehow still on the menu which he wasn’t about to explain to Muffett that the source was much closer to her than it was to him. Somehow after the woman-drake had disappeared, Sans had said something about Alphys having access. He’d turned out to be correct (though the eggs were likely genetically engineered in some way, his palate was telling him they were a close substitute but no cigar) and Sans had received a generous...reward for his troubles, while he pocketed the premiums from selling them to Muffet for himself.

“Shall we keep the price the same for the Snow Drake eggs?” he mimicked the spider’s delicate tones.

Shadows of the ire that he had felt flickered across all six of her eyes. “Of course. 75% minus the Temmie eggs to spare the rain from dowsing such handsome flames.”

Grillby's jack-o-lantern grin quirked upwards in an indulgent half-smile. He wasn't nearly as self-enthralled as that robot, but he knew he was considered attractive. Strong magic, stable, clever mind, and the self-perpetuating fact that these things granted him experience enough that when he chose to pursue or accept, he was rarely rebuffed.

Unfortunately for Muffett, she wasn’t exactly his type, though he wasn’t deterred from dangling the proverbial carrot out there. Screwing her out of money was infinitely more satisfying.

***

Grillby managed to count to ten. Well, seven more accurately, following the spider taking her leave, before the surface of the alcohol spiked tea roared to life in a jet towards the ceiling where it singed a beam before evaporating the contents and curling back down to nothing. No, he wasn’t stupid and…

“WHY WASN’T SHE TAKING THE BAIT?” he roared in a complete and impotent rage, angry first at failing to goad her into a attack or to drink his rather drugged beverage, and then in general from having found no way to one-up her. He yanked his rag from the strings of his apron belt and snapped it into the back of the sink basin, where it gave a satisfying smack against the metal before landing inside.

Still trembling with the force of his emotion, he began to prepare for the opening rush that day; when the first round of sentries were relieved from their posts by the second shifts.

A particularly expensive bottle of vodka was slammed back  into its spot amidst the rows of bottles lining the back of the bar.

“Shit…” he whispered as the violent thrust caused the glass to clatter and clink. He forced himself to take a breath and calm himself.  No matter how much of an annoyance Muffett was, he would be in worse trouble if he broke all his merchandise pitching a hissy fit.

It was already going to be a slow day.

No one but the desperate came to Grillby’s if they knew what was good for them the day after ‘Inventory’. Even if you’d had the worst day of your life and it was better just to go home and deal with the memories for a day or two before attempting to erase them.

“Gimme...two doubles...Grillby.”

Grillby obligingly put two glasses in front of Cassie - the real town drunk, and snapped his fingers impatiently while she fumbled desperately with her wallet, fighting the DT’s in order to make the looming wall of fire in front of her get her her coveted alcohol.

She barely managed to tip the minimum amount of gold out onto the countertop, looking horrified. There was enough to cover the drinks exactly, but it looked like after that, it was it for her.

She knew it too, and was having none of it.

“I...I’ll do anything Grillby...you gotta let me start a tab! Please!”

In her desperation to get drunk, Cassie mistook the expression that crossed the bartenders’ face for one of kindness.  “Perhaps, there’s always an opportunity to discuss a deal. How do you propose that you will be paying for this tab?”

“I have jewelry at home! A locket...and earrings! From New Home!”

Grillby snorted. “And how exactly would I look nancing about Snowdin in poshy new-home jewelry? What use do I have for earrings?” He tilted his head to the side. Under the flames he did indeed have ears but he assumed she couldn’t tell anyway.

“Y-you could s-sell them!”

Right, walking right into Muffett’s territory and advertising being so hard-up that he had to sell shit in order to make ends meet. “Pass.” He turned away.

“Wait! My Daughter!”

“I have no interest in you prostituting your daughter to me.” Grillby’s voice had turned unimaginably opposite to the sudden excess warmth his flames now provided. Grillby knew of Cassie’s child and she was hardly of age for that kind of consideration even if he had been the slightest bit interested.  “I suggest you finish---”

“NO! I mean she could help with um….opening your bar!”

This was a bit of a different consideration. Prep work was dangerous at times and rather time consuming. “Can she manage water? Chop vegetables uniformly?”

Cassie nearly lunged across the counter in her desperation. “Yes! Yes! Anything you like!”

Grillby barely turned around to face the other seat that had been filled during the exchange. “Sans, you may bring…

“Ruby!"

“Ruby in, tomorrow at 8:30. If you cannot handle it, you may send someone else from the Guard.”

If Cassie was at all concerned that she had just opened her home to the Royal Guard coming to collect her daughter to go work in a bar on a school day, she didn’t show it, slumping peacefully into the embrace of alcohol which he was obliged to provide. Grillby was opportunistic and cruel, but not some kind of child-molestor or a cheat. Cassie would have her drinks.

Sans was the only other person to be guaranteed to show on an inventory day, for reasons that most assumed were quite similar to Cassie’s, but the reality was more welcome to Grillby. Call it...stress relief.

“Two fingers of New Home whiskey, mustard, Couple of burgers...leave the bottles.” Well, some of the same reasons of course.

“Of course.” Grillby purred in a parroting of his thoughts, but the tone now completely different.

“Yeah I’m sure I’ll have no problem getting the kid in the mornin’.” Sans’ right socket winked quickly at the bartender, and finally something very real broke through Grillby’s sour mood.

“Indeed.” he murmured, twisting bottle labels around so they all faced the same way and even his craggy grin seemed to quirk a bit.

Something of note was trying to permeate Cassie’s drink addled brain, but it gave up quickly and she applied herself to her second double rye, thus missing the wordless exchange that had gone on between bartender and patron.

He was even patient enough to wait the full ten seconds when Modlina, Cassie’s Moldbug babysitter came to fetch her from the bar. It was a sure bet that unless he moved quickly, Papyrus wouldn’t be far behind her. Latching the door behind her and dusting along the spotless floor,  he strolled up behind the dozing Sans, threading fingers through the fluff bordering the back of his jacket hood and heating his hands up to an unbearable pressure.

The skeleton jumped with a low growl in what appeared to be a show of shock and rage at the pain, but his gold-toothed grin split wide, and he was twisting Grillby down to his level to press his teeth and snake his tongue into the bartender’s mouth.

Grillby could definitely remember climbing the stairs and flicking off the lights in the bar, but somehow it seemed to take a little faster to get up the stairs than he ever remembered taking the journey, carrying Sans to boot.

Stars, he must have needed this bad.

***

Grillby’s dwelling was above his bar and even this had been cleverly set up to his advantage. While the place was comfortable, everything of value that the bartender possessed; namely food and money, including his own, was kept in the magically protected bar area under lock and key. It wouldn’t save him from being dusted if someone truly wished it to happen but it WOULD detain anyone who wanted spoils from their murder long enough for the guard to arrive. Likewise, the magical protection of the place being a shop would drive anyone attempting to force him to retrieve his goods for them into a stalemate, again giving him time to alert the Guard.

Ergo, only two pieces of furniture dominated the upstairs; the first a place for Grillby’s personal effects; clothes and shoes, an umbrella and a hat for those rare Waterfall trips, and yes, a rather massive bed, of which Sans was now lounging on, making himself at home and wriggling his shoulders into the plush of the pillows

“Heh, fuck, where’d you get this thing from? Rob ol’ King ‘Gore?” the skeleton smirked from his vantage point, making a rather impatient growling noise as his eyelights followed Grillby’s movements as he removed his shirt and folded it neatly.

“Just a particularly good dump find.” His standard dry response.

It was true as well; his fire magic had been instrumental in drying the mattress and pillows thoroughly before they’d rotted through from the damp. They had a permanent sort of campfire smell, which was apparently rather pleasant to most. Including Sans, who had asked this question before, and Grillby knew what the follow up would likely be if he didn’t give the Skeleton what he wanted immediately if not sooner.

It was just as he had this thought, that he found himself almost pinwheeling to stay upright, yanked down by Sans’ magic bending the gravity on his soul. Caught that off guard, his natural magic did little to extricate him and he landed with an ungraceful sort of ‘whup’ noise next to the skeleton, arm sprawled out across the top half of his rib cage.

He pressed himself up one-armed with his hand braced directly across Sans’ ribs, balancing delicately on his right hand and left foot, to move his right wide to straddle him.

“I will teach you patience one day.”

The skeleton smirked and the elemental was reminded of the gravitational grip still on his soul.

“...but I guess today is not that day.” he grunted as he landed atop Sans once more, wriggling his arm free.

“Shut u--” and he could feel the rumble of the chuckle in his mouth as he managed to do just that with a kiss, the space between their groins becoming both deliciously close - and maddeningly uncomfortable, at least for Grillby, his trousers were still buttoned and zipped

“If for any reason I ruin these, I’m adding the dry cleaning to your tab.” he hissed.

Sans’ eye sockets snapped open. “Then fuckin’ take ‘em off already.” His legs straightened and stretched beneath Grillby’s who sat up on his knees, undoing his own pants first so his aching cock could spring free, hissing steam as he rubbed the tip,

He’d never been particularly demanding in the bedroom; at least not to any great degree - some handcuffs here, a little gravity bending there; once and never again on the bartop wherein the poor fastidious bartender had choked out his OWN safety word. Nor had Sans; in spite of the tales of what he and his brother got up to. Grillby had thought to try asking more than once but had cut himself short every time, mental images of that damn brother stymying him and so Sans was left to ‘surprise’ him as it were. Sometimes a pussy, sometimes a cock, sometimes an anus and (very likely) a prostate.   

He’d left it too long again as gravity once again failed him and he found himself nose-to-nasal cavity with a now rather irate Sans, the gold fang shoved into the bone looking as angry as Sans surely was.

On the other hand, the expression suited him and Grillby was proud of himself to have put it there, but too long and it would be pushing it. One hand toyed with Sans’ ribs, interestingly malleable, producing a shudder to the furious facade as he sent a gentle puff of flame between his ribs, the lick of flame threading up along his sternum; purple magic mingling with the skeleton’s natural red and producing an indigo colour that sent an interesting thrill down his spine.  The other hand slipped down the elastic of the track shorts to expose...hm…

Grillby didn’t mind a cunt, it had a nice flavour, no need to dress it up, and it would be fun to enjoy having Sans here a good long while. What exactly could the good Captain do with the bar already closed and all lights out save his own?

He was a patient fire elemental and he was even good enough to use his considerable height to his advantage, threading his hand underneath the lowest part of Sans’ spine and stroking from the back, guiding his hips upward as he knelt over the edge of the bed and gave the labia minora and the clitoris a long, round lick, keeping his natural heat as low as possible, crackling with pleasure as his ministrations elicited a rather long string of incoherent slurs and gasps from above, before diving in, the hand above keeping pace with his tongue.

“Heh...ugh- -fuc---...geez….Grillbz...thoug...thought you were su--supposed to blow smoke up my ars--...” he squeezed the base of his spine, right along some of the last sensitive vertebrate and smirked hard as there was a yelp and a glancing but hardly even slightly painful blow to the side of his head, given the splay of Sans’ legs and the fact that he was getting tongue fucked hard by the fire elemental in question.

Grillby raised his head enough to be level with Sans’ line of sight and crawled forward back over the bed.

“Really, you’re that desperate now?” he asked and even he was aware of how predatory he sounded, needing no gravitational magic guidance to position himself, flaming eyes narrowing behind his glasses, as he drove himself in.

***

The Underground was place of gossip mongering and always had been. There perhaps was no place more prone to pithy comments behind hands and whispers of juicy secrets than Snowdin. The hallmarks that could compete with any human hamlet were all there, a pub, a large town square, a notable figurehead in society who made his home and did his prime business there. A strange and mysterious door that invited stories and legends of the strange and unexplainable passing through.

Papyrus would have hoped that upon receiving a promotion the whispering would stop. Instead, it was simply...delayed until such time as he left the vicinity. A good majority of it was true in the way that gossip could tend to be, mind. He did have a secret weapon, he definitely had quite a bit of LOVE

Papyrus  wished he could just get Sans to start taking his job seriously, and that wasn't to say the skeleton Captain didn't try.  On the one hand, Sans' poison magic had served them both well. No one would suspect lazy border-line drunk Sans of being any kind of a threat. Sometimes hiding one's most valuable resource was best done in plain sight. One little scratch and the victim would be miles away, maybe feeling a little hungrier or more tired than they should be.  Maybe feeling just a little bit off by the end of the evening, and maybe just a little bit dust on the floor by the next day.

Almost everyone was sure that Sans was in the guard on pure nepotism; some lingering familial bond that hadn’t been yet broken by Papyrus’ high LOVE.

Yes, almost. Then there was Grillby. Papyrus didn't know how or when, but something told him that the fire monster knew more than he was letting on. The only thing was, how much did he know?

He supposed part of the problem was that after all this time, they’d apparently gone their way to separate interests. He for example didn't have any reason to drink (if anyone suspected he might even be a little bit not in perfect control of all his faculties, he was asking for an ambush), nor did he keep alcohol around, so as to dissuade Sans from further getting out of control...and he hadn't any interest in making the kind of food his brother enjoyed. He didn't understand how his brother got so much enjoyment out well, any kind of food if he was honest, let alone the truly weird stuff like mustard. Food was energy. When energy was low, you replaced it. You ate it so you could keep training or fighting or whatever. Yet Sans went every day, racking up a tab that even the increase in wages that came with being Captain couldn't cover, taking what he didn’t explicitly need. Senseless waste. Nor was it as though he could...give back. Once food was eaten, it was gone.

Once, a long time ago in an attempt to understand it, back when food and sustenance had been less of a strained resource,  he'd gone into the place, just to see what all the fuss was about. Maybe a little bit because he was still impressed by the Dog Guards before he knew what utter drooling hacking morons they were. But mostly to see what occupied so much of Sans’ interest. Back then, the only thing he could glean was that the place was full of grease. He'd had no less than six showers afterward, feeling as though his bones would be slimy forever, that the vile stuff was inside with the marrow. Sans seemed to enjoy being slimy and unclean; ergo Papyrus assumed that was the point.

He'd been young then. Less worldly. Less Great, but on his way.

Speaking of the devil (or however the phrase went), the door opened just as Papyrus was passing by. The Captain froze. There was no way he was willing to deal with Sans daytime drinking.. This was a new low and...

Ah. Only the Spider.

To be honest, Papyrus wasn't that fussy on her either. After all, if Grillby's food was heavy and indulgent, the fancy little cakes and pies were doubly so. She was however somewhat tougher on her customers with delinquent accounts, and he could respect that.

"Captain Papyrus." she waved. It IS lovely to see you on such a fine day."

Papyrus looked around at the whipping winds and murky slush of snow.  Aloud he said "Thank you." and nodded curtly, for what else was to be done with such an innocuous if incorrect comment? "Well, whatever the weather, my rounds must NOT be neglected! State your business Hotland Citizen!"

"Oh I was just here for my usual business deal with dear Grillbert. I am so happy to see his business is thriving out here in the cold, though I do think it's rather an easy sell. Warmth in a frigid climate, how novel!.” she tittered in a way that suggested she felt distinctly contrary to that sentiment

The Captain  was starting to feel charitable towards Spiders all of a sudden. Then, he was taken with an idea. It was not precisely a noble idea befitting of the Captain of the Guard, yet it had taken a swift and very deep root.

What Papyrus was presently considering was incredibly petty.

"I wouldn't think..." he began - still time to back out, h.... "...that you would need to come to Snowdin for this kind of a thing."

“Well, unfortunately it is necessary.” Muffett spread four of her arms. “Grillby scratches my back and I do scratch his.”

"As you know my Second in Command is ...familiar with the Royal Scientist.”

Yes he was doing it...

Undyne liked to talk too, though it was mostly just ridiculous blither about fighting, or how good of a lay Alphys was. Papyrus was privy to some information he truly had never wanted to know about his predecessor and teacher’s sexual life.

There was occasionally some important stuff hidden in the blithering, like the fact that Sans came by when he was stationed out in Hotland for some of Alphys....whatever private experiments she did. He'd played that game with Papyrus for a time.  Food was as much a currency as GP in the underground and Sans had wheedled his way into Papyrus' good graces by using it to pay his tab in a sort of ‘delivery boy’ role. Papyrus’ preference for his tab to be gone definitely outweighed the indignities of the brother of the Captain of the Guard being reduced to an errand boy.

He could say it was ‘experiments’. He could say Undyne liked tea. He could say...

...He knew it was eggs. Snowdrake eggs.

“I’m sure you could simply go straight to Alphys for the eggs.”

Muffett had halted now too, turning to look up at Papyrus with an almost beatific grin.

"Is that so, Captain Papyrus? Right near my home you say? Why, I wasn't aware you cared so much."

“It is my pleasure.” he said stiffly, turning to face the ferry. “And here we are. I am sure it would be prudent of you to go back to Hotland now.”

Muffett grabbed him and then...OH. OH THEN. Hands...Multiple hands, way, way more hands than there should be, all over...Not good.

Papyrus  was certainly not moving any faster than usual as he bid her farewell by the Riverperson's boat and marched off double time.

***

The Captain was making his way through the town, encounter with Muffett long purged from his short term memory the only way he knew how. He was forcing himself to pick up his knees so high he was practically doing high kicks. If the bizarre march felt at all unnatural, Papyrus didn't show it, head up, stance alert, arms swinging.  A halo of red bone attacks whirled behind his head as he moved; the very picture of vigilance. Nothing at all about his presence belied his body’s private internal plea for sleep and rest, but there was just a short way back to his house.

He would NEVER admit it, not even to himself that Sans might have something of a point about the extended periods doing nothing besides just laying there feeling in the least, smallest way good or beneficial.

Something in his back rubbed against some other disk and it took everything he had not to stop for a moment and stop and work out the small kink or even to wince.

He could see that the lights were off as he approached the house and a lack of footprints could mean his brother had shortcutted, but given the present time it was just as likely that he was dallying at Grill---somewhere -- he mentally amended, trying to calm his temper. Yes, as much as he would prefer for Sans to be home, there was potential merit to his tardiness. He let himself in, Checked the room for any lurking intruders who might try to improve their LOVE and finally switched on a lightbulb heading to the kitchen. The stove was set to heat while he filled a pot with water.

“SANS!” he growled at his absent brother, finding cupboards were almost completely bare. For the second time that night he squashed down his rage. There was a box of precooked lasagna noodles, which he crumbled into the water, along with some of his pent up ire. Some pasta was better than no pasta after all. He would just have to get on Sans' case more so the next day - give him an early shift so he’d have time for household chores.

It could still slide for now, while he got some work done, and he carried the sustenance upstairs to his room. The desk chair wasn’t the most comfortable place to sit in the world, but his well-organized room and the food helped revitalize his spirit some, even if the noodles were gummy; he’d added them to the water too soon.

Paperwork wasn't Papyrus' forte, but it was a necessary evil, so to speak. He pulled out the day’s files, digging into the topmost one.

Undyne's untidy scrawl peered back at him.

'Nearly skewered singing bitch who screams all fucking night. Snails still disgusting, owner a total pussy. Working on way to beat shit out of fucking garbage smell from dump. Gerson not dusted yet.’

Then, there was a series of small pornographic drawings in the margin of what was unmistakable her and Alphys doin---ew...and actually, that was pretty impressive. Disgusting, but impressive.  He growled and crumpled the paper up with a ‘Nyeh’. Gods he was going to make her write a halfway decent report one of these days, though this one at least was a step up from the twelve pages of 'Fuck you Papyrus' (double sided, including all the margins and the bit at the top and bottoms as well) she'd given him the first time he made her.

The second folder was a bright sunny sort of yellow, somewhat cheerful looking despite the dump grime from whence it came and the ambience of the Underground in general. Out of the remaining documents, this one was the one he picked up first. Reports from Hotland were delivered by Nine, a flytrap-esque monster who, like Gerson was getting on in years, but was not showing any signs of slowing down or a desire for retirement. She was one of the few whose loyalty did not concern him; she had been one of Gerson's former top soldiers, Undyne had wrested the Captaincy away from the old turtle and he Papyrus had taken it from Undyne. It was a system the old soldier respected and not only that, her ...unusual...sense of humour had endeared Sans to her of all monsters (the joke ‘apparently’ being that Nine was her name and not her rank). Her report was consistent as always and a little bit...polite? Well, it seemed that way compared to her usual usual no-nonsense tone. There wasn’t much to say of Hotland, the plant ran a damn tight ship.

Sans still wasn't home. Fine. He'd have until this last report. The Snowdin report. The one with DOGS. The dogs were by far his most adamant detractors, desperately unwilling to take orders from anything they considered a chew toy and oh boy did those whispering fucks set Papyrus’ teeth on edge. Sans had better get his lack of an ass in gear.

***  
By the time the door to the Skeleton Brothers’ household was flung wide, every other street light and candle in the district had winked out. It was beyond the wee hours. If there were criminals trying to operate at this hour, they were likely rethinking their lifestyle choices as not even the edgelordiest human or the most up and coming new Captain of the Guard wannabe would have dared try and sell Papyrus a bunch of Monster Kidscout Biscuits, let alone challenge him.

And he had one destination in mind.

When Papyrus arrived at Grillby’s the lights were off in the main establishment. Upstairs, a dull purple light gleamed.

The Skeleton frowned to himself, but he could be certain his brother would have been at the establishment. Perhaps he could at least tell him where to look.

A quick peek around the building revealed a back door that seemed directly above the window with the light. It also made the skeleton Captain’s non-existent ears perk up. The noise was...well if Papyrus didn't know any better he could swear it was someone trying to put a running lawnmower through a wood chipper.

Perhaps he did not like Grillby but this could be more serious than he thought!

He pounded on the door.

"OPEN UP FOR THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS!" he howled, on the off-chance that someone was in fact putting a lawnmower through a wood chipper. There was a sudden silence. The noises stopped.

They started up again, twice as loud.

He lifted both hands and throwing caution to the wind, began hammering on the door in earnest.

“OPEN THE DOOR I SAY! I AM CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD! THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS! SCOURGE OF AND SUCCESSOR TO UNDYNE AND BROTHER OF SANS THE---”

….The noise stopped thank stars, he wasn’t actually sure what kind of credentials he was going to scream after his brother, and Sans was already pushing it.

Papyrus waited, and then waited some more, and finally lifted a hand, just as the door swung inward and he came close to beating on a very disheveled, very smug (and damn he had forgotten just how irritatingly TALL the other monster was) Grillby in the face.

“May I help you?” The fire elemental leaned against the door frame, stretching slightly and scratching lightly at the gentle lick of purple flames that crawled across his bare chest and...ugh, of course he had abs. Papyrus had always been insanely jealous of Undyne’s ropey strings of muscles.

Papyrus simply endeavored to pretend that it was no different than hauling his brother home from the pub at an ungodly hour. “My brother as you know is a patron of yours. I was wondering if he was still in the bar.”

“Oh, I assure you, Sans is not in the bar.” Grillby looked bored. “May I return to my bed now?”

Papyrus’ proverbial heart leapt into his throat and he was frankly fighting down a very hard spile of true nervousness by this point.

“May I go back to bed now? Captain?” Grillby repeated.

Papyrus forced a look of nonchalance onto his face. “Very well. I am sorry to have disturbed you.”

The door shut and Papyrus pressed the side of his skull to the door. He could hear clearly the steps going upwards - from close to flat and not into the bar. Then...he wasn’t protecting Sans.

The Captain turned and stood on the small backdoor stoop amidst the refuse bin and the concrete step and the light and barely managed to ignore the weird noise that now sounded like someone was sexually abusing car alarms.

He sat there for what felt like an eternity, marrow cold in his bones. Sans, finally torn from his grasp. His brother...and...his...best mate in all the world...and…

...and he would recognize that flash of energy anywhere.

Sans had teleported home. From upstairs in that flat right up there.

Striding up, bones behind his head, Captain Papyrus of the Royal Guard, Scourge of Undyne, Brother of Sans, BANE OF GRILLBY….

….Lying scum…

...would pay.

***

Papyrus’ clout as Captain of the Guard was far reaching enough that he could usually receive whatever he was interested in getting from the rest of the Underground. That said, Alphys was one source he had actively planned to avoid making demands of as much as possible. Quite apart from not really knowing much about her save what Undyne discussed (and it was definitely not the sort of information he cared to know about ANYONE), the crux of the matter was that Alphys would no doubt given the choice choose to assist her 'ba--'' he shuddered, apparently not even in his private thoughts could he force himself to say that Anime nonsense. Girlfriend. Her girlfriend. Partner...in regaining her former position.

So when he knocked on her door, he was quite adamant about checking for traps, and ostentatiously extended the length of his perpetually whirling halo of bone attacks.  It made getting through the laboratory door a little difficult, but worth it.

"A--ah. Hello...C-Captain P-Papyrus." she wrung her hands and kept her distance. The light reflected off her glasses but as she moved through the shadows of her lab, he was able to catch glimpses of the real fear in her expression. Good. No one was that good an actor.

 _Not even…_.

He caught himself. He wasn’t here for a fan visit, despite being a little curious.

"I-I...can't imagine what...what you would ...Undyne's not here!" she squeaked, her eyes fixed at the lazily whirling cloud of sharp red bones.

"I'm not here for Undyne." Papyrus sniffed, already growing weary of the other monster's snivelling.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind - Could he entice Sans into gunning for the position? Him as the Captain of the Guard, his brother the Royal Scientist? No, well, he couldn't do that right away, anyway. Not so soon after showing up here personally. But maybe down the road. After Sans was fixed. Stronger. No debt on his shoulders.

"I am interested in procuring some nutritional supplements."

No, Doctor Alphys was almost definitely no actress. The shock and confusion was too immediate and natural for a show.

"W-well, yes, I know y-your brother....I mean, Undyne tells m-me.. Bu---but I think h...he looks g--good. I  mean when he comes to get the Snowdrake e-eggs...." her voice trailed off into an upper register that probably could only be heard by dogs. In fact Papyrus was almost certain he could hear them barking if he listened hard enough. The Skeleton frowned somewhat and took a step towards her, taking the moment of intimidation to think about this. She was a scientist. That meant a blatant lie about what he needed this for would readily be uncovered. He was badly out of practice in the art of sneaking around, even he could admit that. Why would Captain Papyrus need to skulk in the shadows. "Well that is, in part what I am interested in doing." he started, aiming for somewhere near the truth. "While he is hardly ill, it is my professional opinion that my brother could use a break from the Grease Trap."

To no surprise, Alphys clearly knew what he meant, Undyne was fond of some of Grillby's dishes, much to his consternation.

"I am also here to pick up..." He couldn't pronounce the word so he offered up the page he'd torn from a Librarby book.

Alphys scrutinized the page and then gave him a very funny look. There were still some Monster-written books in around and this particular magical drug stimulated the production of breastmilk in expecting pregnant monsters. It had been a necessity the moment the population started feeling the effects of long-term entrapment.

"Are you sure?" Alphys was surprised into replying without fear, a hint of the natural scientific curiosity peeking through. He wasn’t exactly well-known for his many romantic conquests either.

"Obviously." sneered Papyrus as though she had just asked a very stupid question. "We have a lot of rabbits and their production of viable, healthy offspring has been low.."

This answer seemed to pacify Alphys who nodded. Apparently choosing not to press her luck inquiring after the Great and Terrible Papyrus’ motivations any further, the good doctor scurried off somewhere deep into her laboratory; leaving the skeleton alone with his thoughts. A screen flicked slowly over the various surveilance cameras Alphys had put up in the Underground, most silent for now. On one of the Snowdin screens an Ice Cap scurried into a dwelling. He watched it go.

From somewhere upstairs he could hear music playing, accompanied by a girlishly high pitched voice singing, though he couldn't make out the words.

He considered what he was about to do. In the current silence he allowed his mind to wander a little. Some small yet unblemished part of him was revelling in this, not just that he truly did mean to help his brother, but also he supposed they all had their little hobbies. The idea of cooking sounded rather nice, removed from the Captaincy and all it required. And vitamins, that was /healthy/, wasn't' it?

It was with an obvious relief that Alphys presented him with his request and was finally looking at the back of him.

 

Now, then, for the next part of the plan. This was still the Underground and as he had reminded himself early on, the Doctor was his foremost rival’s girlfriend. A test was necessary. He didn’t really expect the Lizard monster to pull anything but he hadn’t gotten this far without a healthy amount of suspicion.

He tucked the bag into his inventory and decided to go on a little surprise patrol.

Ultimately, in spite of his general distaste for the heat he decided to continue on in Hotland for the time being. Nine, 01 and 02 would be far more likely to appreciate the break than Undyne would.

His current path marched him down towards the air vent puzzles. They were immensely unpopular, even with the locals.  Sure enough there was a group of school children dallying near one. A large Pyrope and a Vulkin were backing them up towards the edge.  

Whether they viewed them as easy LOVE or were just giving them what they assumed was an amusing scare, Papyrus wouldn't stand for it. If there was one thing he had no patience for it was the bullying of children. Maybe it was because Sans had always taken good care of him until he was old enough to stand up by himself. As much as his brother could be annoying, he would never forget the tooth he'd exchanged for for a very large fraction of his HP and Papyrus’ own life. He would never forget that the collar he made him wear was to protect that. Or...why he was convinced what he was doing for Sans now was right.

Or maybe it was just that most monster kids weren't old enough to prove themselves to be complete shitheads (though all things considered they'd probably grow up to be just that.)

The whirling bones pulled away from his back and spread into an arc, hovering above the Vulcan and the Pyrope.

"Captain..." hissed the Pyrope in terror and they both winced as the bones slammed down into a barrier separating the children from their would-be tormentors.

"It's just a steam vent puzzle." Papyrus growled to the youngsters. "Go."

"You lot. Let's go." He gestured towards the prisoners and the duo looked as though Gyftmas had come early when they realized that Papyrus intended to take them into the station rather than dust them. Well, hassling kids wasn't necessarily a crime, but a few nights in lockup would be useful to test  what he needed to.

***

Nine was there when he arrived at the local Hotland Prison. She snapped a salute and immediately eyeballed the situation, but also didn't contradict or even question him when he pushed them into the furthest cell.

"Hassling Sprouts? Is that so?" she muttered, noting the time in her records. "Kids get away alright?"

Papyrus nodded. He liked her for caring, even in her gruff sort of way.

"Well Soldier, I'm not going to the whole day’s job for you."

The plant monster snapped a second salute and hurried out of the station which left Papyrus with an approximate 20 minute window before 01 and 02 came back. Some snails had been brought in from Waterfall - prisoners did get food, after all. Of course he wouldn't be caught dead providing sustenance to some lowlife lockups, but rations were easy to doctor appropriately and he would most definitely receive immediate results if the Hotland Prisoners suddenly dusted.

If Alphys had tried anything meant for Sans she would have a lot to answer for....

***

As predicted, it wasn't long before Papyrus got his answer. The Vulkin and the Pyrope had been released on good behaviour. In fact, the Pyrope had apparently called his wife to pick him up. That had been an offhand comment for Nine, but it boded well for Papyrus. No other harm had come to the present inmates under her care. 01 and 02 had been added to extra guard duty by the vents; presumably to ensure nothing like this happened again.

And with that, Papyrus could take care of a much more vexing personal matter in his own jurisdiction.

He knew by this point Grillby's profits had to be taking a hit, what with Muffett not needing to pay the premiums to him for her eggs.So it was with something akin to excitement that he patiently waited for his brother to arrive home. He'd done his very best work in the kitchen, even managing to ward off the dog.

Maybe dogs didn't really enjoy the smell of vitamins. However (and that shrill little voice in the unspoiled corner of his soul had delighted in cooking for the sake of it), he had to admit he'd done some of his best work. Sans would be suspicious for sure; even he didn’t remember the last time he’d taken time off guard duty for anything, but he wouldn't deny a direct order from the Boss and Papyrus knew it.

 

Science had never been a personal forte,  but he knew his Intent all too well. He was after all underground renowned for having precision control.  Monsters differed from non organic species in plenty of ways but one of the primary ones was intent.

He had gone into this with a complete idea of what he wanted to achieve. All that mattered now was getting his brother to take the bait.

***

It wasn’t that Grillby was concerned when Sans stopped coming in. This happened from time to time, Papyrus would argue with him and then Sans would promise to get himself straight AND THEN, it would last a few weeks. and finally, Sans would be reinstated at the usual spot re-racking his tab.

This time…was different. Outraged over the loss of his eggs, and the downswing of his best customer, the Fire elemental finally lost it.

“Pay your tab Sans!” he roared, and the skeleton actually took a step back.

“Alright, alright, you’re right it ain’t gonna suck itself.”

“WITH. MONEY.”

They stood there for awhile

“Okay…okay.” Sans agreed. “But after my shift. I’m on watch.”

The end of the day ticked in and sure enough, Sans arrived. He was holding a jar of something frothy and white- two in fact. He placed them on the counter.

“What is this?”

“What the hell does it look like?”

“God this better not be stolen Temmies’ milk.”

Sans shrugged.

Grillby unscrewed the lid of the nearest jar. Geez, it was fresh too, judging by the warmth it had to it. He took a clean shot glass from under the bar and poured himself just under a mouthful to taste. It was…good. Somewhat sweet but not cloying, more like fruit than straight up sugar.

Delicious, actually. But…where the hell DID he get it?. Sans played fast and loose with the rules, that was a fact and he certainly was a product of the harsh conditions of the underground but his level of douchebaggery involved wordplay about the intelligence of parents, the odd joy buzzer or other piece of prop comedy and general lewd stuff about sucking dicks, eating pussy and who sucked dick or ate pussy of various size and/or species. Not molesting females. And yes he might dust someone on Papyrus’ orders, but as the saying goes, even evil has standards and Grillby was well aware of Sans’.

What was more unusual and pressing was that Sans left immediately after. No booze, no burger, no mustard.

When he actually started putting a real dent in the tab, Grillby began to get worried.

He HAD to find out where he was getting the supply.

And before it could get MUCH weirder, just when he didn’t think there was anywhere left for the new normal to go, he _gained_ a Skeleton patron.

"Hello….Grillby.” the Captain spat, probably in regards to the fact that even while he was wearing his highest platforms and lifts and heels that were MTT grade, Grillby still towered over him.

“I am here for one of your milkshakes. Vanilla. And make it swift!”

The bartender was too stunned to question it, snark or take issue with the tone and set about making the beverage while the Skeleton tapped his foot as though he couldn’t get out of there fast enough..

At first he assumed that Papyrus was there to pick up something for Sans - some form of reward for keeping to his new apparent regimen.

Yet, all through the next few weeks, Papyrus would come in, get his vanilla milkshake and go home. While drinking it himself. Grillby would have called anyone a liar if he hadn’t seen it for himself.

The fire monster was just about certain he’d stumbled into one of those alternate dimensions Sans went on about when he was extra loaded. He was certain Papyrus’ dislike of him was so ingrained he could have served fresh raw vegetables and veggie burgers and some other health food nonsense….and Papyrus still wouldn’t deign to set foot in his shop.

It was the milk. IT HAD to be. Where the actual hell was the source?

It was beginning to drive him insane and further to that, he could see what Papyrus’ game was ultimately going to be. No more Tab, no more milk.

Luckily, Sans wasn’t that strong willed.

Should he maybe try having Alphys analyze it? No….that didn’t seem right. Among other things, Alphys was a great technician but no biologist. Her apparent ability for the matter was some kind of SnowDrake egg substitute and what had gotten this mess started in the first place was her position as a supplier having been compromised.

Sans knew the old Queen lived out in the ruins (or that there were some rumors to that effect), but having already dismissed the (amusing) idea of Sans jumping her and trying to hold her down - to say nothing of asking her nicely seemed ludicrous. There were the dogs; but the female among their number had her own tab to pay. Sometimes they brought milk but he couldn’t imagine them sharing it, particularly given what they thought of Papyrus.

He casually put out the plate. “Come on Sans, how about a little treat, on the house.”

The Skeleton smirked. “Do you have a little blinking light that says ‘Obvious Bribe’ too?” he asked.

Okay, fine, he wasn’t being subtle, but go on Sans…take  the bait…take it…

Success. The skeleton grabbed the food and crammed a bite of burger in his mouth.

“GAWWWWD.” he groaned.

“I also go by Grillby.”

Sans nearly choked on a laugh. He let him finish some of the drink.

“So Sans, I have to know. The milk?”

Sans’ grin grew wide but he didn’t offer any info.

“Where the hell are you finding it? It’s not dog or rabbit…and I don’t think fish or lizards produce milk.”

“Closer than you think.” he just managed around a full mouth and Grillby took the time to really get a good look for the first time in a while

Now, there was no way Papyrus had starved him, but Sans looked like he hadn’t been fed in weeks…or as was more likely, had been fed something undercooked, overcooked or virtually tasteless. He looked both healthier and more exhausted at once. Also, dogs slobbered less than Sans was presently. Geez Captain Fuckwit, what the hell? Papyrus was a great many things but he’d never really tortured Sans, at least, not to his knowledge.

Still, a bit of drool was worth it if it meant he was going to get his questions answered. Grillby waited patiently for the frenetic pace and the majority of the drink to be gone before he took a second stab at it.

"So?”

"I did give you a hint. Remember Grillbz? Closer than you think?”

“Everything is 'closer than I think’ with those damn shortcuts of yours. Better hints Sans.”

“It’s not about shortcuts. Think about it.“

The bartender wracked his brains. "The Queen doesn’t ACTUALLY live in the ruins does she?”

“Well, yeah, but not even close.”

Grillby was starting to very much NOT like Sans’ grin which had slid from lazily buzzed to absolutely shit-eating.

The fire elemental was by this point at the end of his proverbial rope.  "Fine Sans, you got me. I don’t know.“

"It’s breast milk.”

The flames on the elemental’s head shot even higher in irritation.  "I am well aware that it is breast milk.“ he snapped, voice crackling in his frustration. “I am wanting to know where does it COME from.”

“Who has two thumbs and been bringing you milk for the past for the last few weeks.”  Sans gave a mustard-soaked double thumbs up and jerked both back towards his rib cage.

Grillby took a moment to process what he had just been told before a new and very horrible thought hit him.

“That’s not an euphemism for….”

He cast his eyes downward.

Sans gave him a funny look as his alcohol soaked mind tried to catch up.

“What? Fuck no, you idiot. I said breast milk, I meant breast milk! ” His grin turned even more evil.  "'Sides you’ve had your mouth on my cock enough times to know that ain’t that.“

"You’re lying.”  Grillby said at length.

“Fuck no I ain’t.”  And without further ado, the Skeleton hiked his shirt up.

Grillby had been with Sans enough times to know how his magic coalesced and yes, there, right where they should be were he a humanoid female, were two rather impressively large, breasts, all made of the same magic he used for his sexual organs.

It seemed so obvious. If he wanted a cock or a vagina or a stomach, why not a  pair of boobs….that he could produce milk with.

Grillby was going to tell him to put his tits away in the damn bar, but what came out was

“I have to see this.”

Was Sans’ ability to do that specific to him? Was it a care-giving instinct manifested because he was the elder? OR could Papyrus do the same.  The odds were good that Papyrus with his infinite stores of magic probably could as well.

The Fire Elemental leaned over the counter and into Sans’ space. Close to, it appeared that the nipple part was slightly swollen, he could see been stimulated.

“How do you…” Grillby pantomimed a 'milking’ motion with his hands, natural curiosity outstripping any attempts to act reserved or mild.

“Okay well, first, Boss gets his teeth on there good and tight,” he gestured to the nipple and areola area and…” he sucked air through his teeth. “…then spits it into the jar.“

The stunned dead silence was broken by the sound of Grillby making a strangled noise, as he tried not to vomit on his bar.

"How the hell do you think? We have a breast pump!” Sans chortled. “Oh my GOD the expression on your fucking FACE!”

By this point quite rather irritated, the fire elemental frowned slowly.  "Lovely.” . The curiosity was replaced by a new one,

“Next week, you do that here.”

Sans snorted. “Yeahhhh boss’ll love that.”

Grillby raised a flaming eyebrow. “Let me put it another way. Next week you do that here and I will feed you for free for a month.”

The expression on Sans’ face changed drastically and Grillby knew he’d won.

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Grillby starts formulating a plan and we find out what the boys were like prior to Papyrus' bid for Captaincy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do a flashback episode or two before I continue with the main event.

Grillby made to shoo Sans out of his bar the minute he'd finished the last dregs of his drink. His mind was whirling throughout the day, so much so that he’d messed up no less than 3 orders; fortunately with different customers. It was such a rarity of an occurrence that he was fortunately never called on any of it - but he couldn't quite get himself to laser focus like normal either. It was a relief to escape to his bedroom that night to ponder things undistracted.

He had no desire to over play his hand before all the cards were on the table, but a month of free food was...excessive. He hadn't been thinking right.  

It seemed a little uncharacteristically shallow of him. Grillby liked sex but he never had interest in pursuing a serious relationship or jumping just because someone shook their arse or, in this case, tits his way a little.  

He and Sans fucked. That was the definition of their relationship. They fucked. 

He rolled over onto his front with a groan,.  A whole month of...

Wait.

There was a silver lining to this cloud of poor judgement after all. A month was a long time to offer handouts it was true, but it was also a rather sufficiently long time for Sans' tab to keep decreasing. A sufficiently long time for Papyrus to be satisfied or assume that he'd won.

Then. This could be a good...

Damn. There was another problem. Grillby wasn't an expert on the subject but he could guess that Papyrus had started this project only after ensuring Sans was denied access to his preferred diet. What if that was making this milk taste good? Even Cassie had managed to stop drinking when she’d discovered she was pregnant. Animals were animals, after all and --

There was a pause. 

He'd just said the magic word.

/animal/. 

Grillby snorted with laughter and found himself suitably tired for the first time that night. 

Animals....

* * *

 

_ At this point, Sans knew he was far too old to be sleeping in the same bed as his younger brother, but what choice did they have? He heaved himself out of bed  and began to get dressed for the day. _

_ "What kind of job are you going to today?" Papyrus' voice, bell-clear of any of the fog that consistently plagued Sans' mornings chirped from behind him. Sometimes he wondered if Papyrus actually slept or just simply closed his eyes for a period of time.  _

_ "I dunno kid. I'll tell ya when I come home tonight. Anyway, while I gotchya up, let’s review huh? Whaddya say if anyone comes to the door while I'm out today?" _

_ "Fuck you, you cunty jizz rag."  _

_ Sans was grateful he was facing away from Papyrus at that time as he couldn't help the smirk that came to his face. Honestly, he couldn't for the life of him imagine where that stuff came from. He'd say Papyrus had learned it at school but this had been going on since he was a babybones - a string of amusing random profanities that spilled from his jaw every so now and again. Sans knew it'd absolutely be the kind of thing he'd have taught his infant brother to parrot if there'd been an adult to annoy...but Sans was big brother, mother and father and any other ‘adult’ relatives that Papyrus might need.  He couldn't think where he'd gotten this shit from as he'd always been careful not to drop so much as a cursory 'fuck' if he stubbed his toe. In this day and age in the Underground not even little kids were safe. No need to fuel fire. _

_ Shrugging on his jacket, he injected sternness into his tone and repeated the question. "Funny stuff kiddo. What’d I really say yer t’tell them?" _

_ "That I'm selling Monster Candy for 2G and they should buy some or get out." _

_ "That's right. Good job. An' try to get another hour of sleep at least? Sleep's good fer ya." _

_ He closed the door behind him on that note and walked downstairs to bully the water-damaged VCR into working with some videos he'd found. Papyrus enjoyed flashy game shows and he'd found some adventure type stories that seemed pretty age appropriate.  He knew the kid'd be out of bed the second he heard the door slam. _

_ In the kitchen he took a long look at the depressingly understocked fridge, eying what was there critically before chopping up some water sausages into a bowl of leftover pasta. Not bad. . That'd hold Papyrus until he got home. _

_ Papyrus was supposed to be in school so that he could learn the skills necessary to enter some part of the Underground economy but honestly what could he do about that? There'd been another dusting at the school that week and the teachers had to shut down and keep the kids at home. Sans hadn’t much of a choice regarding the fact that he had to work so he’d brought back a bowl of Monster Candy to keep some shop protection over his kid brother while he went and made enough money to keep the roof at all. _

_ This ultimately meant 'do the stuff no one else wanted to do'. This week's 'assignment' was joining the dump scavenging party, a chore he was not particularly relishing despite the fact it was one of the better paid assignments, not only in terms of cash but there were certain benefits like first pick of the spoils.  On the one hand, these sorts of trips lasted a while, but the reality was also that Sans was painfully out of shape, prone to sweating and tired quickly. Putting a large amount of garbage smell on top of that - well, even he had limits to his own slobbiness.  _

_ By the end of the week, Sans was of the opinion that if the given the choice between dangling by his ankle over the core and this, he'd take dangling by his ankle over the core. _

_ This was balanced slightly by the fact that Papyrus was soon back to class and he had to admit he’d actually gotten some nice perks. Namely, the volunteers had gotten first crack at the wares which in his case had included claiming dibs on a new mattress. He decided he would set it up for himself in the spare room and let Papyrus have a room to himself.  _

_ He'd also found a box of food. Not leftovers, a whole unopened box of human food.  Not for the first time did Sans envy the surface world. Imagine....well whatever reason you could have to throw an entire unopened box of food away?  To have so much excess ant you missed an unopened package mixed in with your rubbish. Or having got the wrong brand or the wrong flavour and being able to throw it away without bothering to return it. Human food did not, of course have the same level of nutritional value as Monster food did but it would keep them happy for awhile. Papyrus for all his fussiness had a strange quirk of turning up his nose at many foods but yet completely accepting them if they were mixed with pasta. Lasagna would be more than acceptable  _

_ As he trudged home, Sans took a long look of longing into the window of the local pub. God he  what he wouldn't give to join the lot in there eating burgers and fries. As he'd paused in his trek to fantasize a door near the back opened. The figure who emerged was a fire elemental, lugging bags that he could hear clicking with glass and tin from where he stood in the street. He locked eyes with the other monster as the kid heaved his cargo into the trash.and marched back inside.  He stood there a while longer, following the purple-coloured flame moving back into the bar and could make out the actions of grabbing a broom and sweeping the floor. _

_ Lucky kid. Must be nice to have a  secure job and future like that... _

* * *

_ "Hey Papyrus!" Sans called cheerily, and he was, despite his exhaustion. "Brought ya somethin' real good for dinner. How wa..." _

_ And Sans froze. He'd just come to realize the house was dark and quiet, just as cold as it was outdoors, as though no one had come home at all. In a second, exhaustion forgotten he tore through every room to no avail. There was no dust either but he didn’t dwell on that as a positive just yet. It took him a second to shortcut his way to Papyrus' school.  _

_ The problem was readily apparent almost instantly. _

_ The two monsters standing over his brother were older teenagers, long out of their striped shirts. It was impossible to tell whether they were as old as Sans himself or younger but either way, they were adults and Sans saw RED. He checked his brother as he raced towards the duo.  _

_ “2 HP. 2 ATK, 8 DEF. Trying to get up and fight.“ _

_ "Listen." Sans was beyond incensed but mastered himself just enough that he was aware he was better off trying to talk these guys down than fight. Papyrus made a noise behind him that distracted him, just a split second before the one monster's hand came into contact with his face, a sickening crunch reverberating through the right side of his skull along with….something that felt hollow. He was already dusting, he knew it! He felt his HP drop into the fractions. But...he wasn’t...dusting. Dimly, he spotted his tooth lying in the snow, bringing his hand up to feel the new hole in his skull.  _

_ That had been it. Sans may have had low health and none of Papyrus' control but that meant very little when so much of his magic was spot on. Wave after wave of bones went screaming into the duo of Papyrus' tormentors,and just as they couldn't take it anymore a massive, draconic skull opened behind hind him, a beam of pure magic spilling out of its mouth. There was nothing left. The dust had been dusted, the permafrost and snow melted into slush puddles. _

_ Sans felt like he was about to join them and would have done so gladly, but he gathered his brother up and stumbled as far as he could, making for the first beam of light spilling from a window that he could find in his addled state. He could barely feel his love spiking with his first kill. _

_ As it turned out it was the bar he'd been so enviously watching not minutes earlier. _

 

* * *

_ Sans felt....good.. Or...alive. at least. He was He kept his sockets closed, unsure of what he might find if he opened them and tried to put together his situation in his head. He was on a couch. Someone’ else’s. He'd slept on the couch downstairs often enough when he failed to tolerate Papyrus' sleep-kicking, but this was not that lumpy pile of shit.There was a blanket on him too and everything smelled faintly like smoke. Not the unpleasant smoke of a fire, but a sort of campfire, woodsy smell.  _

_ Sans sighed. It was nice to be this comfortable... _

_...but… _

_ None of it mattered if... _

_ He struggled up, fighting with the blanket that had been tucked in.  _

_ "Papyrus--" _

_ His voice died on his teeth  _

_ The source of the light in the room wasn't a lamp. It was the fire elemental he'd spotted taking out the trash the other day? Last night? This night?  The kid was watching him with a perfectly calm expression, seemingly unfazed by his struggles to throw off the blanket.  _

_ He managed to calm himself. _

_ "Where is my brother?" Sans did not feel threatening, but he was proud of how deep and commanding his voice actually came out.  _

_ In spite of it, the fire elemental gave him a look that screamed 'Are you quite done yet?’, but perhaps something in his expression belied something underneath his attempt at bluster because the  other monster opened his mouth. _

_ "Your ...brother is fine. My Aunt Agni fixed him up in a minute. We were more worried about you."  _

_ Sans turned that over in his mind as the events of whenever he had been last concious came back, foggy though they were. _

_ He raised a hand to his mouth, realizing for the first time that there was no hole left. Instead, something had been wedged? Glued?inside the once-empty space. It was ...sharp.  _

_ He drew his hand back and looked to the Fire monster curiously. _

_ “Got your tooth knocked out in the fight, I guess. Wasn’t much in the way of replacements. We did what we could.” _

_ "My brother?" he repeated. _

_ "Probably out in the bar with Aunt Agni.” _

_ “Aunt--” _

_ "My Aunt. She owns this place." I'm going to take over when she's dusted." _

_ "Oh." Sans didn't know what to make of the boy or the easy way he talked about his family dusting in the future. Maybe they just weren’t that close. He didn’t dwell on it much as he flew out the door which lead to the kitchen. Evidently he’d been in some sort of break room.  _

_ “SANS!” The familiar shout was enough to put all negative thoughts out of his mind.  _

_ His little brother was in the arms of… _

_ Even half-hysterical over his little brother who despite his enthusiastic greeting was now sporting a permanent crack through his eye socket that ran deep into his skull, it was hard not to notice that the fire elemental holding him was a total MILF. AILF?  _

_ Apparently that ran in the family. The kid was no slouch in the looks department either.  _

_ Tall, shapely and made up of sparking blue fire and most prominently a matching pair of 44 double D's that his little brother had literally no clue how to appreciate (Geez!) _

_ Papyrus' ability to remain unfazed by gorgeous fire monsters and boobs was currently taking a  massive back seat to their reunion.  _

_ If nothing else Agni and the boy left them alone for the present, but it would take a few days for even Sans to notice that something very deep and real had changed in his brother. _

  
  



End file.
